


I'm still haunted by my open wounds, I won't express them truly to you (friend make sense of me)

by RavensandWritingDesks2714



Series: Relief and Understanding [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But she's going to be there for her friend dammit, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I made myself cry and now you will too, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In this house we stan one Marisha Ray, Jester is unable to process unhealthy relationships, Other, Sad with a Happy Ending, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22444315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavensandWritingDesks2714/pseuds/RavensandWritingDesks2714
Summary: Beau is quiet.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & The Mighty Nein, Beauregard Lionett & Thoreau Lionett, Beauregard/Self-Worth, Jester Lavorre & Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre & The Gentleman
Series: Relief and Understanding [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577107
Comments: 1
Kudos: 86





	I'm still haunted by my open wounds, I won't express them truly to you (friend make sense of me)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic brought to you by my shattered emotional state. 
> 
> *Do be warned that, while not explicit in this fic, there are references and strong implications to child abuse and emotional abuse/manipulation, as well as the aftermath and consequences of said abuse.*
> 
> Please be safe while reading!

Beau is acting weird, and Jester can’t stand it.

For starters, Beau is _quiet_. Beau is _never_ quiet; always loud and eager to be loud, to be at the front of things and the heart of things and just…all of the things. But there is a weird shift in her from the moment the decision is reached to go to Kamordah and Jester watches as Beau gets quiet. Watches as her eyes seem to dim, and it’s hard to really tell even that because Beau’s eyes keep going to the ground. Or just barely skirting the edges of their faces, focusing on weird spots like the corners of their eyes or the edge of their lips. She sees Beau’s eyes skip lower, once, dancing across the backs of their hands and then away, and Jester hates seeing this side of her. Hates that there is something out there that could take this away from her.

Caleb is weird, too. And Yasha. And Nott. Jester knows it, can see it and feel it in the way they all seem to hover around each other, around the edges of saying something. Jester wishes she knew a spell to fix this, that she could place her hands on their shoulders and look in their eyes, and her holy symbol would glow and bam. Instant healing courtesy of The Traveler.

Instead she has to watch.

As Beau’s fingers drag through her hair, shoulders tight and hitching high towards her ears, eyes drifting away as she say those awful, awful words.

And suddenly the way she’d been eyeing their hands makes sense now.

Except not really, because why would Beau think…why would she think what Jester still can’t bring herself to think?

That’s not fair. That’s not how things work. That’s not how _they_ work and that’s not how _parents_ work. Or dads. Dads are…

Absent.

_Loving._

Kind.

_Distant._

Proud of their daughters.

_When they know they exist._

“I really don’t like your dad,” Jester growls, and the corner of Beau’s mouth presses tight and _twists_ , like a knife like a sword like a _glaive_.

Beau says that he’s just complicated, and Jester wonders if he is really, or if that is just how Beau sees him. Or sees herself. Or sees the two of them together.

Dads are…

Complicated.

_Violent._

Difficult.

Beau is not difficult. Not really. Jester remembers when they first met, so many…months? _Has it really been that long? That short?_ Ago.

Beau said she was simple, then. She’s not…simple…at least, not in that way. But Jester has always been able to read her because Beau, while maybe not always honest in what she _says_ , is always honest in what she _feels_ , and Jester has always been able to read that better than anything. Anyone.

It’s easy to see Beau how she was when they first met, because Jester is looking at her right now.

Beau is…

Quiet.

_Retreating._

Hurting.

She can’t say the word.

That’s not how these things work. That’s not how _Beau_ works, but there is no denying that Beau is.

Quiet.

Jester wants to be the one to talk to her.

Instead, it’s Fjord, and Jester watches from a few tables away as he slides into a chair beside Beau with a mug of ale in his hand.

Jester wants to be the one to talk to her.

Except not with alcohol, cuz that’s gross and probably not good for Beau right now. But with some milk and pastries or something. And Jester could take out her sketchbook and draw all the terrible things that could _that should_ happen to Beau’s dad. And then Beau will laugh, and her eyes will sparkle again with that light that is just _Beau_ , and her lips will smile and not _twist_ , and her shoulders will lift because she’s happy, because Jester made her happy and not because…

Beau is…

Defensive.

_Scared._

Careful.

_Scared._

Hiding.

There are walls, again. Behind her eyes and riding tight in her shoulders. Her head is down, only going up to scan vaguely across the party, as if…does Beau think they aren’t going to be there, somehow, if she doesn’t look enough? It’s silly, and awful, and Jester knows that that is exactly it.

She doesn’t like Beau’s dad.

He is…

Careful.

_Paranoid._

Fake.

_Sincere?_

Defensive.

_Genuine?_

Scared.

_Scared?_

Complicated.

_Complicated._

And Beau is…

Beau is shaking.

Her eyes are hard, her shoulders are tight, and there is a tremble so sharp and so subtle going through her body that it’s only when they go to toast that Jester notices it. But once she’s noticed it, she can’t _not_ notice it, and she thinks that it must _hurt_ , that Beau is holding herself _too tight_ and she is _shaking._ So hard that when Jester puts her palm to Beau’s back her own hand trembles and she can feel every twitch of Beau’s body and the exact way her voice cracks over the word _please_ and her dad is…

There’s a weird look on his face. Jester isn’t trying to hide her scrutiny of him, even if she is hiding her voice. She can see the way his eyes flick over the group as Beau speaks up, _finally_ , and there is a tightness in his jaw that Jester thinks means annoyance? He’s annoyed, or frustrated, suddenly, that they are all standing there in this moment in particular, as Beau is having her say for once.

 _What I became had nothing to fucking do with you_ , Beau is saying.

And then his eyes stop scanning their group to snap over at Beau and there is a _look_ in them, and his mouth curves, his lips _twist_ upwards and it’s…

Exasperated?

_A warning._

Bemused?

_A threat._

Beau sees it too. Jester knows she does because her mouth tightens sharp closed and her chin lifts and her eyes skirt- but it’s not _Beau’s_ chin lift, it’s not a confidence or a challenge. It’s accepting and expectant and it’s her eyes skirting down to her father’s hands and _waiting_ there and her dad is.

Quiet.

_Angry._

Quiet, though. Because they are there. They are there, and they are _staying there_ and her dad is quiet and Beau is not.

And her dad stays quiet but he keeps making faces, and Jester hates each and every one of them because with each one Beau’s eyes flicker and her voice wavers. And then she stops and she breathes and it’s shaky, and he says more words and Jester hates those too because with each one she can see Beau’s resolve crumbling, see the light dim in her eyes and the walls going up up up behind them.

Until all that is left is for them to leave, and they are barely out the door before Beau is crying.

And she is…

Safe.

_Broken._

Strong.

_Loved._

And her dad is…

Behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> Upon my rewatching of this episode, and especially the whole last half and the interactions between Matt/Thoreau and Marisha/Beau, and constantly pausing and replaying and scanning reactions I realized one of several things in particular; I don't think the entire table has ever been so quiet before. The tension was palpable and the expressions were painful. 
> 
> It is also the *only* time I have ever felt genuine fear while watching Matt portray an NPC. 
> 
> Again, the acting from Matt and Marisha in this episode were incredible and intense and spot on, and I can not say enough how much I appreciate their handling and portrayal of such a sensitive topic and relationship. 
> 
> Don't forget to love each other guys.


End file.
